Chapter 3
“No right? No claim?” The Imperial Prince’s gaze slid to Geron, amusement cut quick. His smirk deepened as he gestured toward the boy who had forced himself upright among the stones. “Then why does he stand?”
Up close, Imperial Kylix was unbearable to look at, beauty turned to menace, broad shoulders wrapped in a black cape, heat shimmering. Golden eyes burned, smile too perfect, jeweled teeth flashing. The sight hit something raw in Mirel’s chest and he hated it.
The Luminary soldiers chuckled, laughter rippling harsh around the grave walls.
Their mirth pressed in, hard. Kylix’s gaze turned from Geron to Mirel, fixing on him with cruel delight.
Their eyes met. The air thickened. The graveyard went still.
Mirel’s knees buckled, chest tightening until he could not draw air, yet pride forced his chin aloft.
Sweat ran at his nape, thighs trembling, breath shuddering toward collapse, and still he stared at him.
Geron’s voice broke through again, harsher now. “He was just hungry. We all are. He’s innocent.” His courage from moments before faltered under the heat, the plea breaking rough against the stone.
Kylix did not look away from Mirel. His eyes stayed fixed, cruel amusement flickering there. “Do you think he trembles from fear, or because he wants my hand at his throat? Worry less for his hunger, old man, and more for mine.”
“Please,” Geron said, voice shaking. “He’s harmless. He doesn’t hurt anyone. He’s just a boy.”
Kylix lifted one hand, silencing him. “You waste your breath. He doesn’t need you to speak for him.” His smirk deepened. “Right, little one? You will speak to me for yourself?”
A few residents stirred, half rising in shaky solidarity for Mirel, but fear kept them rooted. A sharp intake of breath. Someone whispered a prayer. The guards jeered, shoving them back.
“Grave rats,” one sneered.
“Wasteland scraps.” The sound rattled against the stones.
Mirel forced out one thin syllable. “No.”
The word changed the air. Silence settled. Kylix tilted his head, voice low with menace. “No. You rise against me and now you deny me. Are you looking for trouble?”
Geron shouted. “No. He doesn’t want to fight you. You misunderstood. We apologize, sir. We are nothing.”
The guards’ laughter died, tension clamping down as even they sensed the turn. Kylix’s smirk spread, cruel and delighted. He crooked a finger at Mirel. “I think you do want to fight me. Come on then.”
Mirel stepped back. How often had he not dreamed of this moment?
From up close, the Imperial Prince was breathtaking.
Tall, strong, and handsome. Terrifying. But in his dreams, he didn’t die.
Mirel fisted his hands, wondering how he had managed to end up in this mess, if there was going to be a way out alive.
Kylix tilted his head, clearly enjoying himself.
“You will fight me, little ghost. You will lose. And then I’ll drag you where the stone sweats and the roof eats the light.
Let you rot until no one remembers your name.
Or perhaps I’ll keep you close after all.
Taste every shiver. Learn the scent of your fear until it clings to me.
Strip you down to tremors and breath until you have nothing left but me.
” His jeweled incisor caught the torchlight.
No, he wanted to say. I don’t want to fight you. Never you. But words didn’t come. There was only fear.
When Kylix took one step forward, Mirel panicked. His ribs locked. His breath burned sharp. Frost broke through his palms before thought could stop it. Ice snapped from his fingers, jagged and wild, the strike aimed straight at Kylix.
The sound hushed the graveyard.
For a heartbeat he thought no one would move.
Then the silence turned on him. Every face he could not see felt fixed on his skin, as if the whole graveyard had eyes.
The frost at his palms brightened, betraying him.
He wanted to hide them, to sink back into stone, but the heat of Kylix’s gaze held him.
He knew what came next. The fire, the chains, the end of the quiet life he had stolen.
Residents drew sharp breaths, some stumbling back, others whispering as though a miracle or curse had just erupted. Even the guards stilled.
For a heartbeat Mirel thought he saw Kylix falter. His golden eyes widened, catching the light of the planets, and Mirel’s chest lurched with the thought that even he could unsettle the Imperial Prince.
Then Kylix’s smirk returned. He licked the edge of a jeweled incisor, eyes locked on Mirel as though drinking him in. “Well,” he murmured, “you’re not what you pretend to be.”
“I … I …” Mirel’s throat closed. Terror surged.
He spun, boots scraping stone. He managed only a step before the guards closed in, shields flashing, hemming him into the circle.
His breath stuttered, terror pressing harder.
Beneath it, his heart thrummed faster, something hot and alien pulsing in his chest, as though it answered Kylix without his will.
Kylix’s amusement sharpened. “You don’t even know, do you? You have no idea what you are. But I do.”
Mirel gasped, dry throat tasting of iron. His hands trembled loud in the silence.
Golden eyes burned, amusement and hunger tangled. “Fight me, little ghost. Show me how far that ice can reach. I promise I won’t let you kill me, but I’ll enjoy watching you try.”
There was no turning back now. No way he was going to survive this.
Mirel shook, lungs burning, eyes freezing, body trembling as the power tore loose without thought.
He had never used his ice to fight, only to survive.
Now it lashed out like panic. His vision blurred, spots crackling at the edges.
Kylix’s measured step forward made vapor thicken around them, the distance shrinking until even fear felt intimate.
“Mirel?” Geron’s voice rasped through the cold. “What’s going on, son? What has happened to you?”
Across from him, the Imperial Prince lifted his hand.
“Run,” Mirel forced out, the word cutting his throat. Ice snapped from his fingers in a desperate burst, a jagged shard hurled blindly into the night.
Kylix watched it streak toward him, stepping aside at the last moment so it splintered harmlessly against stone. His laugh rolled low. He bared his teeth, jewels flashing. “Your aim is a little off. But my, do you smell good. I’m going to enjoy this.”
The residents huddled in the shadows, caught between terror and awe, their silence broken only by the moan of the gates.
Mirel hurled another jagged strike, ice flashing white across the dark. This time Kylix did not step aside. His eyes flared molten, pupils drowning in gold. Fire burst outward in a wave that split the night, meeting the ice head-on with a hiss of steam.
“You think you can taunt a prince? You think I would let you walk away after striking me in my own sight?”
Ice leapt outward in a wild lash, shards striking stone, climbing his boots.
For a moment Mirel thought he had struck, but fire rolled back in molten sheets, breaking the shards to steam.
His chest heaved, strength bleeding fast. Terror clawed higher.
Another burst snapped loose, brittle spears shattering before they reached their mark, leaving him shaking and blurred.
Kylix pushed back, hunger curling in his tone. “I’m really hungry now.” Fire burst outward in a wave. The force made Mirel stumble, dragged a gasp from his chest. “Beg,” he said. His eyes burned. Voice low, velvet fire. “Beg me not to devour you.”
Mirel drew in a shuddering breath, fear clawing through him. Desperation tightened every muscle, he knew he could not win this. The knowledge sat heavy in his chest, a weight colder than the frost on his hands. He braced, filling his lungs until they burned, and shouted, “No!”
His cry burst sharp as he hurled another strike, shards of ice lancing hard against the fire.
Kylix staggered back, surprise flashing in his golden eyes before his smile returned, incisors glimmering. “Yes,” he breathed, almost delighted. He hurled back spheres of fire, each one bursting through the steam, forcing Mirel to twist and dodge by inches.
Panting heavy now, Mirel raised his hands again, summoning shards of ice and flinging them forward, his body shaking with the strain.
“Who are you?” Kylix’s voice was low, fascinated, vibrating against the air so close it thrummed against Mirel’s ribs.
Mirel spat instead of words, breath crystallizing mid-air. Kylix smiled wider, amusement curling his mouth as his eyes burned brighter.
“Do you think you can beat me? Those crime scenes you froze, the corpses stiff with your touch, I knew it was you. Little ghost leaving his mark, thinking he could stay unseen.” Heat surged through him and out his eyes, a blast of fire ripping across the barricade.
The fight spiraled larger than the graveyard itself.
Ice lanced upward into jagged towers, each one bursting as fire shattered it into steam.
The ground split open, molten cracks glowing beneath as Kylix’s heat bled through the stone.
Firestorms spun off his hands, while Mirel answered with spears of brittle light, each shattering in sparks.
Mirel moved with feral grace, wide-eyed, sharp, refusing the leash.
Cold trailed his steps, sculpting statues that melted to ruin.
Kylix stalked through the wreckage with blazing eyes, incisors flashing.
The fire and ice tore the graveyard into steam and ruin.
The ground hissed and spat where cold met flame, mist boiling up to blind them both.
Sweat slicked Kylix’s skin beneath his coat, heat radiating in waves, while condensation rimed Mirel’s lashes.
Every motion was labor, every surge dragging more from their bodies.